Hunters of the West

by Allen Moore

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

        William barely able to think, wondered how he had gotten himself into such a terrible fix.  Lying there left for dead, head bleeding and a burning wound across his chest which did not preclude that he soon would be dead if he did not get a move on.  It had all started more or less just a couple of months ago with an innocent enough event which by itself would not seem like much, but had now had led him to his death or near to it.

        It had been one of those typically warm spring north Georgian days when fishing was a top priority for any self respecting young boy of 12 who could manage to get away from work for a few hours.  It was too nice a day to wear shoes and too hot a day to wear a shirt so both of those were left behind as usual as he took his fishing gear and headed for the deepest hole along blackberry creek he knew of.  He had settled in spent some time leaning back against a large oak tree, enjoying the shade, the gentle breeze, the beautiful blue cloudless sky, when he heard them coming from far off.  He suspected it was Wilford Barmalitude Jacobs the fourth, but he was not sure who was with him.  The noise they made no matter how stealthy they thought they were, would scare every critter for miles around far away, they would never make hunters or trappers that was for certain.

        As two boys broke out of the under brush it was Wilford who declared, “I thought I might find William Stewart taking his ease here as usual.”  Behind him stood a black boy, who by his dress must be one of the slaves from the Jacob’s plantation, but why was he with Wilford.  “I had come down for a swim in the heat, but I do not want to disturb your fishing,” Wilford explained.

        Will offered up the facts of the situation, “It is so hot they are not biting, I’ve not even had a nibble the whole time, so a cool swim does sounds like the thing for a hot day like today.  Beat you in.”  The race was on, but it was not a fair race as all Will had to remove were his pants before diving naked into the stream.  He came up shaking the water from his head to see Wilford in his hurry still struggling with the buttons on his shirt, the last item he had to remove, “You know if you would slow down it would be faster,” instructed Will.

        “It was not a fair race, all you ever wear in the summer are pants while I have all these buttons to contend with not to mention shoes, socks, shirt, and underwear!” protested Wilford. But he was soon free, jumping in to go skinny dipping with his friend.

        “Who said the race was fair or that life will ever be fair.  You need to learn that or you are going to pop more than some buttons,” Will commented.  He saw the black boy just standing on the bank watching them.  “What’s the deal with him?”

        “Oh that’s James, my father thinks that I do not spend enough time learning about the place and too much time having fun, so I have him assigned to follow me around, I’m sure he reports back on all miscreant ways,” Wilford explained.

        “Well I don’t know but it just don’t seem right for us to be running around in the buff while he stands there fully clothed watching.  Hey boy take off your clothes and get in or get home!” shouted Will.

        “I can’t,” was all that James replied.

        “You can’t?” Will questioned, “What did you do Wilford, ban him from swimming.  That would not be right on a hot day like today even for a slave boy.”

        “I do not make commands of him on anything, even if I wanted to he would not obey me, he answers to my father.”  Wilford explained to Will.

        Will turned back to James, “It sound like you are more or less free to make the decision, get in or get home, but don’t stand there staring at us.”

        “I can’t go home and I can’t get in,” replied James.  “If it is a matter of me having clothes on that can be solved.”  Where upon he removed all of them and stood there on the bank, naked as the day he was born.

        Will had never seen a black boy naked up close before, as far as he could tell except from the color of the skin he was pretty much like him and Wilford.  He was uncircumcised and had reached maturity like they had so they all were much the same there, and other parts looked about the same in size and shape, except the crop above it was much more curly to match what on the top of his head.  Not wanting to appear that he was the one that was now looking he said, “Well now that you are ready, jump in and join us.”

        “I can’t,” again came James’s reply, “I can’t swim.”

        Will felt stupid now.  It had never occurred to him that a slave might not have the free time or luxury to learn to swim.  All the things that he took for granted hunting, trapping, fishing, shooting,  swimming, and more James might never know.  Well he could at least fix one of those things, “We’ll teach you, come on down and wade in over where it is shallow.  Well come on, are you a man or a boy?”  Will urged him on.  “It is just water, you can go weeks without food but only days without water before you die, it’s a necessary for life.”

        “Yeah and you can only go minuets without air before you die, which will happen when I sink to the bottom!” declared James.

        “We’ll be right here beside you the whole time, we will not let you drown,” assured Will, “Talk to him Wilford to get in.”

        “Are you going to go back to my father and tell him you were too cowardly to get in so you stood naked on the bank the whole time,” entreated Wilford.

        James had wanted to get in from the start, the cool water looked so inviting, it was just he did not know how to swim, and now the boys were going to teach him.  He waded in with Will taking position on one side and Wilford on the other.

        “First things first, you need to learn to float, watch me,” Will instructed as he slowly dropped down and floated on his back next to James.   “Watch my hands notice as I slowly move them back and forth I rise slightly up out of the water.  The trick is not the speed but the slope of the hand, a slight angle always making the water go down under and pushing you up, reverse the angle to the direction you’re moving the hand.  You try it, we’ll be right here on each side holding you up.”

        As James watched Will did rise up a little as he moved his hands slowly back and forth.  James lowered his body down into the two foot deep water laying back as Will placed one hand under his shoulder blade and another under his thigh with Wilford doing the same on the other side.

        As the two boys held James in place Will explained, “Now you need to relax and just float.  We’re going to slowly lower our hands, don’t worry we will not let you sink, just let the water carry you.”  Slowly James stated to sink into the water, “Slowly move your hands next to your side,” Will continued.

        Moving his hands James did feel himself rise just so slightly. Then looking over he saw Will standing there with his hands on his hips, looking at Wilford he had his locked behind his head.  He was floating!  “Well at least we now know you float,” remarked Will, “Now on to the next lesson.  Here watch me and how I use my arms to do a forward stoke, right arm then left arm alternating them.”  After the breast stroke came the side stroke, back stoke, something called the butterfly that looked more like just a bunch of splashing the water.  Then the tough part learning to swim under water, but once you got down there and could see the sun shine on the surface above it was not scary at all.  Now that his fear was gone James learned fast, swimming on top and under water, on his back, side and front.  Soon they were all jumping off the bank, first came the cannonball, front dive, jack knife, and the dreaded belly flop which hurt like the dickens.  James was enjoying himself as well as the other boys splashing and having a grand time.  As much as he feared his white masters, these two white boys were treating him like any other friend they may have.  It was a new experience for him to actually have fun with white folks.

        Before long they were joined by Will’s thirteen year old Cherokee friend Two Dogs from up north of where Will lived.  He like Will spent much of his time hunting and fishing in the woods of the Cherokee Nation, “I thought I heard the loud voice of Will the true shot several ridges over and here I find him.”

        “It’s a hot day and the water is cool, you need to join us,” invited Will.  Then as Two Dogs set aside his gear, removed his loin cloth, Will made introductions, “This here is Two Dogs from out to the Cherokee Nation north of my cabin.  The blond headed white boy is Wilford, and the black one is James, one of the slaves from his plantation.”

        The four boys howled and had a good time swimming, racing, diving in the creek.  It gave Will time to make more visual and mental comparisons between the different boys, Wilford’s blond white one, James’ dark curly topped one, and Two Dogs’ black haired smooth red one.  Will was not the only one taking mental notes as it was the first time Wilford and James had seen a naked Indian, plus it as the first time Two Dogs had seen a naked black boy.  Each one making companions in their minds of how they faired against the others.    

        Finally Wilford said, “It is past time for me to be getting back.  I am sure I will be in big trouble once James makes his report.  Take care Will until next time.”  Wilford and James hurriedly dress taking off at a fast pace once all items were back in place.

        Will watched them go thinking he was glad he had his freedom, James was a slave by birth, Wilford a slave by wealth.  He may be poor by worldly standards but he was rich in his world.  He bid Two Dogs fair well and picked up his fishing gear, tossed his pants over his shoulder figuring he would air dry on his way home.  His mother had died years ago and he only lived with his father so arriving home as he was would be no big problem nor new.

        As he exited the woods into the clearing where their cabin sat his father was sitting out front working on fixing a trap.  “Well I can see that you have been fishing and swimming and from the empty stringer the fish were not bitting.  You should have known in this heat they would not be, but then maybe it more an excuse to cool off,” remarked his father.  Will could tell he knew him too well. “Well you are only young once and you need to enjoy it while you can,” continued his father, “When you get a chance there is still the fire wood.”

        Will reached in and hung his pants on a peg inside the door and turned to the pile of wood to be split.  Being as they were deep in the woods, never got visitors, and since his mother passed on Will on hot summer days had become use to running around for days on end with nothing on. His father spoiled him and let him do what he wanted.  He believed his father actually enjoyed being able to watch his son grow and mature without the interference of some clothes hiding his body’s development.  He called him ‘my little Greek god’, he was nicely tanned, wavy bleach brown hair, muscular and of good form.  His father would say ‘one of these days a young girl is going to see you running around like you do and snatch you up to take home for herself.’

        Will was not worried about anyone seeing him way out here let alone a girl.  Sure he was not a little boy anymore, his body had changed which only help him add some more muscle mass.  The one or two trappers who did drop by on rare occasion and the Indians, both Cherokee and Creek who lived around there, did not seem to mind his lack of attire. The summers were hot, very hot and humid so his decision to do so was well grounded in logic and practicality, and it saved on the cost of clothes.

        As he split the logs he talked to his father, telling him of his adventures with Wilford and James, teaching James how to swim, his observations of the body differences and similarities between his and Wilford’s white ones, James’s black one, and Two Dog’s red one.

        “Yes we are all human, all created by God, so I would think that no matter the color of our skin we would all be much the same,” commented his father.  “Just remember free, slave, rich, poor, black, white, or red, we will all be judged before the same throne by the same God.”

        Wilford did not get into trouble and while James was still required to accompany him around that did not stop them from joining Will on a regular basis at the swimming hole. That did give Will many more opportunities to make detailed observations of the differences between them.  He was surprised to notice that James did tan and had a defiant tan line at his waist, that Wilford’s blond hair on his head matched blond hair else where on his body, that when they pulled back their foreskins to relieve themselves they were all shaped the same, that body functions were all the same, it was like besides skin color, hair and facial features they were basically the same.  His dad was right, while God made different races we were all still just the same, humans.  Each put together with two eyes, ears, arms, hands, legs, and teen toes being all made from the same general plan or design.

        The next time the boys were all together at the creek swimming Will was sharing his world view of how all of them were humans and they were the same before God.  That no one was made better than another and all would be at the same accounting in the end.

        “You can just look at James and see how dark he is, he is not the same as us,” protested Wilford.  He had many slaves on his place and none of them were as good, smart, or hansom as he was, and his father backed that up with many comments as such.  If they were made equal then they would not be in the situation they found themselves.  Slaves had been made for a purpose and that purpose was to work.

        “Just because his is a little darker, ok a lot darker than us that does not mean he is different, that he is not a human who should be bought and sold like cattle.  Shoot he tans just like us, look at the tan line at his waist,” Will defended his stance.

        “He may tan but you sure don’t, you are evenly colored all over” declared Wilford, “I swear you must run around nude all the time!”

        “I do, what of it.  The only time I wear anything in the summer is when I come here to the creek because I never know who I will meet,” retorted Will. The other two boys stared at him in disbelief, he could not really mean  that.  “What do you not believe me, come back to my cabin and ask my father, he’ll tell you it’s so!”

        The challenge was made and Wilford was raised not to back down.  “Ok I’ll come and we will see what your father says,” Wilford flung back at him.

        Will was mad and he was not going to make it easy on him, “Fine, bundle up your clothes in your shirt and come as you are, just like me,” challenged Will.  He was mad that Wilford felt he could treat James as something less than equal human being.

        The challenge just got bigger, but with the heat up between the two boys neither were going to back down nor even give ground.  “Fine!” roared Wilford as he wrapped up all his clothes in his shirt to make the trek.

        James stood there watching the whole exchange between the two boys, now both of them were talking off going into the woods without a thing on, he was suppose to stay with Wilford and watch him, what was he to do.  Will have befriended him and treated him as equal, taught him to swim, defended him as equal, he sure did not want to offend him.  So following the example of the others he wrapped his clothes in his shirt too and followed.

        With Will in the lead the band of boys made their way deeper into the woods at a fast pace.  James was glad he chose not wear anything as the day was getting hotter, the pace made it hotter, and it was nice not having those extra layers on.  It did not take long for the cool water of the steam to be replaced by steams of sweat down their backs.

        As they exited the woods into the clearing with a small log cabin, Will’s father came out the front door.  Looking up he spied the boys proclaiming, “Ah, my wayward son returns, and I see with two converts!”  As they grew close stopping in front of him he continued, “This must be Master Wilford and you must be James that I have heard so much about.  What brings you all to our humble abode?  It looks like Will has converted you to his mode of attire, which in this heat I am half tempted to join you.”

        Will stated it plain and simple, “The boys do not believe that I prefer not to wear clothes most of the time and you let me.”  Looking to the ultimate authority in his world, his father Will knew this matter would be settled quickly.

        “Oh it is very true, Will here ever since his mother passed on when he was eight has hardly worn a thing, weather permitting. I have never made a big issue of it as we live here alone, get few visitors, letting him do as he pleases.  I may spoil him, but it does no one any harm, plus it does save me a little money on clothes,” Will’s father explained with a smile.

        Wilford not one to admit defeat so easily interjected, “It just does not seem proper to allow one’s son to run around in the nude all the time.”

        “Says the boy who stands naked before us, upon entering my place for the first time,” replied Will’s father. “Let me put this before you.  Who made you, God.  When God first made Adam and put him in the garden of Eden what did man wear, nothing.  When God brought all the animals for Adam to name what did man wear, nothing.  When God brought Adam his wife Eve what did man wear, nothing.  When God would come to the garden daily to walk and talk with Adam what did man wear, nothing. It was not until man sinned acting like an animal only seeking out his own desires that he was clothed with the skins of animals and kicked out of Eden.  We have all inherited that sinful nature, but Jesus Christ came, died on the cross, and rose again, took away our sins, set us free and put us back in that same personal relationship that Adam had with God as if Adam never sinned.  So now if our position with God is like Adam before the fall, should our attire not be the one God first choose for mankind before the fall, that is to wear nothing. If my son in his child like heart chooses to follow that spirit, who am I to tell him otherwise.  So what is proper, you judging my son and me or allowing God to be the true judge?”

        Poor Wilford who had never probably had a philosophical thought in his mind ever was at a loss as to how to respond to such a simple argument, no matter how faulty, flawed, and basically wrong Mr. Stewart’s logic was.  He hung his head and said, “I am sorry sir, I should not have judged you and your son so quickly.”

        “It not so much how you judge and treat me and my son, how do you judge and treat our brother James here?”  Father was not one to let a moment of opportunity pass him by, kind of strike while the iron is hot mentality.

        Now Wilford was forced to look again at Will’s arguments in respect to his own thoughts, actions and deeds, which is sometimes not pleasant for many of us.  Was James another human being worth of equal status with him before God, or was James less, something to be bought and sold as one desired?  When the foundation of your society, economy, life style is being hammered away at it can rock you very hard.  As Wilford looked at the ground tears fell from his checks, he lifted his face and with tears still streaming told James, “I am sorry.”  Then he went over and engulfed James in a big hug, “Can you for give me.”  James at a loss of what to do did the only thing he could, he hugged Wilford back.  They stood locked together there a long time as Wilford’s tears ran down James shoulder and back.

        James finally said, “I forgive you.” Then to break the tension, “You were saying about things being proper, is it proper for two naked guys to be hugging each other?”  With an awkward laugh they broke apart, luckily for Wilford one could not tell if his face was red from crying or embarrassment.  He sure hoped that James did not report all this to his father.

        The boys had a good time the rest of the afternoon and soon it was time for Will to lead them back to the creek.  Once they reached the creek Wilford and James reluctantly put back on their clothes as they had enjoyed the freedom of being natural all day, the freedom of being true friends, the freedom of not letting the world control their thoughts and actions for at least one day.  Wilford looked at Will and said, “I think you could convert me to becoming a nudist *after a beastly hot day like this.”

        The boys all laughed.  Will said, “We shall have many more times to swim together before the summer is over.  I’ll have many more times to show off my wonderful tan.” With that he did a complete turn to show off his nicely tanned naked body.  He stood there watching the two boys head home, not leaving until they were well gone from sight and sound.  As he returned home he knew he had made two new converts, not to being nudists or living in  a natural state or whatever one wanted to call it, but to treating all people as equal human beings. But that was the beginning of what was to get him in to trouble.

        One does not go against the accepted norms of the social structure in northern Georgia in the mid 1800’s and go away unscathed.    One must remember the place to which each was born and stay within those defined limits, be you white, black, red or something in between.  Will have never learned or he refused to accept those limitations, he was a free spirit in more ways than one.  The trouble was that his ideas might be acceptable farther north, here in the south it could be, no was a dangerous proposition.

        As Will came into their cabin’s clearing, he saw his father and an older bearded rugged leather clad gentleman sitting out front.  It must be one of dad’s trapper friends from the old days.  “Will, come meet Ezekiel.  He’s just back from the great mountains way out west. I am sure you’ll love the news and tails he has to share,” called out his father.

        Will stuck out his hand for a shake, to have it engulfed by Ezekiel’s monster of one, “So you’re Hester’s boy. Well I do say Hester you have one fine looking young lad, and it appears he must think so also, showing off all his wears for the world to see,” laughed Ezekiel.  For as usual Will was clad only in large hunting knife hung from a leather thong around his neck, rest left free to tan from head to toe.

        They all had a good laugh at that comment, Ezekiel because he thought it was funny, Hester because he was proud of his son, and Will because he knew it was true, he did look good and was not ashamed to show it off to his friends at the creek.

        Once seated on old stumps in front of the cabin again old Ezekiel started to tell his stories, “Well I would say the great rocky mountains are the best hunting and trapping area this side of the world, probably the best in the world.  The  beaver pelts are by far the finest one can fine, fuller and thicker than in the lakes region up north.  They are the big money items, you might say the ‘bread and butter’ of the fur trade. That is not to say over all I do make more money in the fur trade with muskrat, raccoon, fox, deer hides, and even a few buffalo hides or robes now in then.  I even got good money for a mountain lion hide once.   The darn critter wanted to eat my pack horse so I shot and ate him instead, not that good eating but was filling on a cold winter night.  Yet he’s not the most dangerous thing out there, it’s the hungry monstrous grizzly bears that make your old black bears here and in the lake country look half grown.  They can tear apart most anything come across both man and beast.”

        As the sun stared to dip behind the ridge declaring it was late, Will knew his job and got to it.  From the smoke shack he retrieved big helpings of meat, started up a fire in front of where they sat, putting on it a pot to boil some greens, then grabbed a skillet to heat the meat in.  While the sun was setting cooling off the day it was still hot enough not counting the fire that Will was in no need of a blanket, pants or shirt.

        “Just like in the lake country up north Hester, you Stewarts know how to feed a fellow,” declared Ezekiel as he finished off a second hunk of deer meat.

        Will’s curiosity had been roused, “You and my dad use to hunt and trap up in the border water region near the great lakes, so why did you leave and go west?”

        Ezekiel gave Will a sideways look, and scratched his beard, “Well by Congressional Act, the United States forbid in 1816 foreigners to trade furs on United State’s soil.  Which you think was great for us trapper folk, but soon a border war began between the North West Co. and the American Fur Co., as they had hired ex-North West traders to work for them.  I don’t mind fighting an Indian or two but don’t take to killing another white man unless I have to. To do so over furs seems foolish as there are so many to go around.  The only logical place to go was the Rocky Mountains and I am glad I did as it is the best hunting and trapping any where in the world!”

        He then let out a big belch as he continued, “Plus we have annual rendezvous of us fur trading mountaineers, Indians, and peddlers of the Rocky Mountains in the Green River Valley or there a bouts.  Rendezvous are a great time of trading, fun, and games.  But I tell you one should always trade your furs in at a trading post, as the price of trade goods were normally marked up at rendezvous several hundred percent.  It seems the trade good suppliers at each rendezvous made all the money in the fur trade, not us trappers.   But being far from any store we had to take what we could get at the price we could get.  Not to mention that more than a little brew was passed around which might have hampered our trading skills some.”

        Will’s curiosity yet abated inquired, “What got you into the fur business to start with and where did you and dad meet up?”

        Ezekiel explained, “While my father was American he was trapping up north so I ended up being born in Canada in 1798, and my Canadian ma taught me to read and write by age five. My father was a trapper and hunter before me who taught me all he knew, as I am sure your dad has done the same.  By the time I was 16 I already spent four years trapping in the lake region when I met your pa.  I had just shot a set of rapids foolishly trying to avoid the portage and having to carry all my canoe full of supplies and furs on multiple trips around the rapids.  I had almost made it when on the last turn I turned over.  Your father was down at the other end, saw my mess, and help pick up everything we could find.  Lost a good rifle and powder horn, but not much else thanks to your father.  He had an extra rifle in his canoe, we hit it off and teamed up.  We tapped for three seasons together then he found a gorgeous girl who was headed back home to Georgia.  We three floated down to St. Louis together, your folks returning here and I for the mountains in 1817.  You must have already been in the cooker by then, as by the looks of things you’re at least twelve.  Also those good looks of yours sure did not come from old Hester there, you can thank your mother for those.  After we split I traveled west and arrived at a beautiful meadow in the Rocky Mountains in 1819.  It was there I met my wife Blue Sky, a lovely squaw with the biggest brown eyes you ever saw.  She gave me three strong sons.  We all traveled around the west hunting and tapping, using horse or mule for almost nine years. Blue Sky cared for the three boys as well as helping with many aspects of the trapping and fur preparation procedures.  About a year ago while I was checking trap lines a big grizzly bear came into our camp wanting some of the meat Blue Sky was drying.  She thought he was after our firs too, so she took up an axe to drive him off.  Crazy brave woman, all she got was killed for her efforts and the bear still got all to eat he wanted.  By the time I got back he was gone, the three boys were weeping over their mother and I could not follow leaving the boys behind as they were just eight, seven, and six.  The boys all wanted to live with their uncle and cousins so I let them go back to the tribe their mother was from.  After that I no longer felt like doing any trapping there and headed back east.  Here I am now with you all, to check up on old Hester before I head onto the capital in Washington to find my uncle, some diplomat or other.”

        Boy thought Will if he was born in 1798 and it is 1829 then he is only 31 years old, over a decade younger than my dad.  He looks a lot older, but I guess losing your wife and family takes a lot out of a person, and with all that grey hair made me think he was closer to twice that age.

        After a few more stories of life in the mountains it was dark enough for all to retire for the night.  Will even after a big day still could not drop off to sleep yet thinking about some day how he would trap in the mountains out west.  Georgia had been well trapped out and over hunted years ago, yet it was where he was born and raised so was all he knew first hand, but now he knew about the mountains out west.  The lure had caught him and he was hooked, but he was happy that it had.